


let's go lose track of time; somebody's gotta

by serenitysea



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Gen, a little cracky, accidentally married trope
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-28
Updated: 2014-10-28
Packaged: 2018-02-22 23:19:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,702
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2525423
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/serenitysea/pseuds/serenitysea
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Global catastrophe is <i>never</i> a good thing to wake up to.</p><p>In fact, it's almost always the worst thing to wake up to.</p><p>Except of course, when there's a ring on your finger that wasn't there before.</p><p>Then it becomes the <i>second</i> worst thing to wake up to.</p><p>Skye looks down at her hand. At Ward's naked back. The matching ring on his hand.</p><p>"Dammit." She sighs wistfully. "Not again."</p>
            </blockquote>





	let's go lose track of time; somebody's gotta

**Author's Note:**

  * For [thequeenofokay](https://archiveofourown.org/users/thequeenofokay/gifts).



> melissa had this prompt: _it's the end of the world and we're all we've got_ and i thought, well, why not throw in that _let's wake up accidentally married trope_ while we're at it.
> 
> this is... not at all what i had expected, part crack and part fluff and 100% FUN.

Global catastrophe is _never_ a good thing to wake up to.  
  
In fact, it's almost always the worst thing to wake up to.  
  
Except of course, when there's a ring on your finger that wasn't there before.  
  
Then it becomes the _second_ worst thing to wake up to.  
  
Skye looks down at her hand. At Ward's naked back. The matching ring on his hand.  
  
"Dammit." She sighs wistfully. "Not again."  
  
*  
  
 **It goes like this** :  
  
  
There's a mission in Vegas (of _course_ there is) and they pull it off without a hitch.  
  
Naturally this is where the Universe decides to throw them a curve (because the universe is a cruel mistress like that) and somehow they wind up at a club full of pulsating music, blinding lights and copious amounts of alcohol.  
  
Literally _all_ the alcohol, because there are fountains of vodka and towers of shots on nearly every surface.  
  
Ward freezes where he stands, putting an arm in front of Skye protectively. "This is a bad idea."  
  
She looks at the scene of controlled chaos before them and shrugs. "We deserve a break."  
  
"I was thinking something more along the lines of a nice dinner —"  
  
"— _boring_."  
  
"— and maybe an early flight back home."  
  
She raises her eyebrows. "Wow. _Super_ boring."  
  
"You know this is a bad idea."  
  
"What I _know_ ," she says, threading her arm through his elbow and marching them into the throng of people, "is that you used to be a lot more fun. C'mon, Ward. _Live_ a little."  
  
And that stubborn challenge is in her eyes and it lights up her face with glee brighter than anything else in the room and he doesn't know if he wants to kiss her or throttle her for being so _Skye_.  
  
Ward sighs quietly and reaches for two shot glasses from over her head. He places one in her hand and knocks back the other one with a grimace. (Not the finest tequila by far.)  
  
"Bottoms UP!" Skye yells happily, tossing hers back like a pro.  
  
She grabs his hand and drags him into the crowd.  
  
And that is the last thing he remembers for a while.  
  
*  
  
Ward opens his eyes to see Skye staring down at her hand in fixation. He absently notes the ring on her finger.  
  
Then he sees the ring on his hand.  
  
He closes his eyes in frustration. "Not again."  
  
*  
  
Vegas is fun.  
  
And it's bright. And loud. And really, just an overall incredibly jarring place to be.  
  
Skye shrieks with laughter as Ward swings her up into his arms.  
  
"Isn't this better than a quiet dinner at the hotel?"  
  
He can't help the stupid grin that covers his face. "Maybe a little better."  
  
"A _little_?" She punches him on the shoulder. "C'mon, let's go do something _outrageous_."  
  
Alarm bells are dimly beginning to ring in the back of his mind but he ignores them.  
  
"Like what?"  
  
Skye shifts in his arms until she can clearly see the sights around them. She lifts one hand to shade over her eyes, squinting off into the distance. "Over there, captain."  
  
Ward spies the _Rockin' Wedding Chapel_ and shakes his head. "I've got a better idea."  
  
When he sets her down ten minutes later and Elvis waits for them to recite their vows, Skye is still nodding in agreement.  
  
"Best idea _ever_."  
  
"I have those sometimes," Ward says.  
  
Elvis rolls his eyes.  
  
Skye just keeps nodding.  
  
*  
  
"So, we…"  
  
" _Yep_." Ward tips his head against the wall, eyes still shut as if he can just willfully _ignore_ the situation out of existence.  
  
(He can't. …They've tried.)  
  
"Well." Skye reaches for the TV remote, at a loss for words.  
  
Chaos and destruction fill the screen.  
  
She frowns. "Did we miss something?"  
  
*  
  
There are about six different alarms ringing loudly in their ears and Coulson only has eyes for May.  
  
"Are they _answering their phones_ or not?"  
  
May shakes her head, watching the computer screens as the tolls of destruction and wreckage continue filtering in. "We don't have much time."  
  
He huffs in frustration. "Dammit Skye, pick up the phone."  
  
Large explosions rock the foundations of the Playground and they stumble, trying to keep their footing.  
  
" _Coulson_."  
  
He glances one last time at the screen and curses under his breath. "Let's go."  
  
May raises her eyes in growing horror as a huge chunk of the ceiling starts to fall above his head. She rushes forward and tackles him, using the momentum to carry them out the door.  
  
When they've finally stopped rolling, he coughs. "I am never letting them go off on another mission again."  
  
Mack appears from around the corner, helping them to their feet. "The Bus is ready."  
  
May nods, and takes off at a sprint. They will have to move quickly to clear the base if they want to leave in one piece.  
  
Coulson brushes the debris off his suit. "Let's go."  
  
*  
  
"Huh."  
  
Ward comes out of the bathroom with a towel wrapped around his waist. "Anything from Coulson?"  
  
"No," Skye says, scowling at her phone. "Nothing."  
  
"It's not like him to miss a check in." He tips his head at the TV, where the news report rages on. "What's this all about?"  
  
"Apparently, some kind of mass destruction." She's trying to make her phone read a signal but something about the thick hotel structure is interfering with the reception. "Should've asked for sat phones," she grumbles.  
  
" _Skye_." Ward zeroes in on the helicopters circling the the land perimeter. "That's not far from the Playground."  
  
"Of _course_ it isn't." She looks up and notes the familiar landscape and curses, jumping off the bed to get dressed.  
  
Ward hurriedly pulls on his pants and scrambles to find a clean shirt in his bag.  
  
Skye pokes her head through the neck of a black t-shirt, a halo of static shaping her hair into funny shapes. " _This_ is why we can't have nice things."  
  
*  
  
When they're halfway across the country, Coulson enters the communication room on the Bus and surveys the grim faces of his team. "Anything?"  
  
Trip shakes his head. "Nothing yet."  
  
Coulson sighs. "Try again."  
  
This time the phone actually connects, ringing several times.  
  
("Well that sounds promising," Fitz mutters, still sore that they had left before anyone could appropriately stock the galley with snacks. "Fitz," Jemma elbows him, looking pointedly at the tension written on Coulson's face. "Not now!")  
  
" _This had better be important_ —" Skye sounds like she's out of breath when she answers.  
  
"Where have you _been_ , we've been trying to reach you _all day_ and —" Gunfire erupts on the other line and Coulson rolls his eyes. "I know you're doing that on _purpose_ to avoid having this conversation and I am _not_ _happy_ about it."  
  
More gunfire.  
  
There is a slight scuffle on the other end and then — " _Ah, sorry about that, sir._ "  
  
('Ward,' Fitz mouths to Jemma, nudging her proudly. She shakes her head, biting her lip in worry for their friends.)  
  
"Ward, what is going on?"  
  
" _Well, from what we can tell, the mission is a bust_ —"  
  
"— _You can say that again,_ " comes Skye's slightly muffled response.  
  
"— _But we should be able to meet you at the rendezvous in a few hours_."  
  
Coulson looks incredibly relieved. "Hopefully we can stop the world from ending by then."  
  
" _I_ _never doubted you,_ " Skye yells into the phone before the line suddenly cuts out.  
  
There is silence in the room until Lance perks up from where he is slouched against the wall. "What _exactly_ just happened?"  
  
"Either they've been out of reception until just now and are caught up with some hostiles, or —" Coulson looks pained and slightly green as he continues, "— they got married again by an Elvis impersonator."  
  
"Is that something that happens often, then?" Lance seems very intrigued by this line of thought.  
  
"More than I'd like," Coulson mutters as he leaves the room.  
  
*  
  
They save the world because of _course_ they do.  
  
Coulson glares at Skye and Ward when they approach the Bus hand in hand.  
  
Skye rolls her eyes but stubbornly refuses to let go. "Crisis averted?"  
  
"Finally." He nods, toning down the glare ever so slightly. "We needed a way to stop the synchronized attacks. Fitzsimmons figured out how to scramble their communications."  
  
Ward tilts his head in consideration. "Is that why our phones weren't work —"  
  
"— Let's _not_ ," Coulson cuts in. "You can debrief later."  
  
Skye snickers under her breath and fails to sober up when Ward grips her hand tightly in warning.  
  
Coulson waves his hand in exasperation, dismissing them curtly. "Okay, enough. Out of my sight. _Go_."  
  
*  
  
In the privacy of their room, Skye tugs the ring off her finger and tosses it inside the nondescript box.  
  
It lands with a _clink_ among eight other rings, nearly identical in appearance.  
  
Just before she can close the lid, something gold comes _winging_ into her line of vision and pings neatly inside the box.  
  
She whirls around to see Ward standing in the doorway, rubbing absently at his now-empty ring finger.  
  
"You could have taken my eye out with that thing." She accuses, folding her arms sternly.  
  
"Not likely." He breaks into a warm smile. "Especially since it's kind of getting to be a habit with us."  
  
"Not a totally horrible idea, though." Skye bites her lip against the smile that threatens to break out. "Practically a _good_ one."  
  
"We have those occasionally," Ward agrees, lifting his arm so that she can tuck herself against his side.  
  
Just before they leave his bunk, Skye grins.  
  
"What?" He asks warily, not trusting the level of glee on her face.  
  
"I was just thinking."  
  
" _And_?"  
  
"You _said_ you wanted an early flight home."  
  
Ward pinches the bridge of his nose and prays for strength. "Remind me why I married you again?"  
  
Skye lifts up on her toes and kisses him until he is forced to put both arms around her to keep them upright. When he draws away in a daze, she winks mischievously. "Because it was a great idea."  
  
"Something like that." Ward says, pulling her back inside the bunk. "I might need a quick reminder."  
  
"Oh, I think that can be arranged," she says, tackling him suddenly and pinning him to the bed.

**Author's Note:**

> \+ title from 'they want my soul' by spoon
> 
> \+ this is actually their fifth time married... the other eight rings in the box are his and hers. (and then ward drops his in at the end, for a total of ten) ...i hate math.
> 
> \+ i'm b-isforbombshell on tumblr if you want to drop by!


End file.
